


Shall We Dance or Walk on Air

by SOABA



Series: Just Write! Bingo [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Canon Died a Horrible but Necessary Death, Dancing, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwobbits, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fluff Bingo, Hobbit Culture & Customs, Khuzdul, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOABA/pseuds/SOABA
Summary: Dances in the Shire could never have prepared Bella for Ereborian balls.





	Shall We Dance or Walk on Air

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Just Write! Fluff Bingo 2019 over on Discord. Prompt: Dancing.

**__ **

**_Shall We Dance or Walk on Air_ **

“On behalf of myself and my gracious Queen, I wish to welcome you all to the _Muhudtuzakhmerag_. May you all discover great joy this night!” Thorin declared from the podium to the room of over three thousand brightly garbed Dwarrow, a handful of Men and Elves, one Hobbit clad in pale gold, and five little Dwobbits with flower crowns to match their mother’s one of Mithril.

The room erupted with raucous cheering and lots of reiterations of the word ‘aye’ at the statement, an intermission that seemed to go on for hours. Dwarven speeches were far longer than Hobbit ones, simply because of all the interruptions that occurred during the course of one.

Dances in the Shire could never have prepared Bella for Ereborian balls.

In Hobbiton and Buckland and Tuckborough, really throughout all of the farthings, such events were held outdoors in large, blossoming fields. There would be satin ribbons and a veritable plethora of flowers and greenery draped everywhere to serve as decorations. When the sun set, the area would be lit by dozens of paper or brass lanterns depending on who was throwing the party – every once in a while, the Tooks would make a real show of it and break out the twisty copper ones that old Bandobras had once commissioned as an anniversary gift for his husband. The dances were largely informal affairs, filled with the lighthearted mirth that Hobbits were known for and to be at one was to be cocooned in an aura of family and innocence.

In the Mountain, all galas were held in the Gallery of Kings, with its golden floor so polished that it mirrored all those who trod upon it. Giant green granite statues, fifty feet high, lined the walls of the enormous room with the heraldry of Thorin Oakenshield – banners not of cloth but of obsidian, blue diamond, and Mithril – hanging in between each one of his forebears. Enormous chandeliers of gold and a rainbow of gemstones kept shadows from creeping into the corners and recesses of the chamber by casting a soft yellow light that only Dwarrow knew the secret of creating, one almost like that of the sun itself, downward. The balls were, more often than not, displays of wealth and power, a boast of prestige, with each Silver Lord or Lady competing to outdo whomever had hosted the event previous to their own. The events could be as much about intimidation as they were about celebration, depending on who was the compère for any gala in particular, Bella had learned.

Of course, as Queen Under the Mountain for over a decade, Bella Rosé Baggins had little cause to worry that anyone would be stupid enough to try to bully her into anything. The few that had tried in the earliest days of her marriage to Thorin had either lost their heads or their beards – the former being the far more merciful punishment, obviously – after failing miserably in the attempt. Still, Bella found the politics of the balls irritating and usually only truly enjoyed herself when the festivities were put on by the Crown or by a member of the Golden Council, which more or less consisted of the Company and a select few others.

Fortunately for her, the _Muhudtuzakhmerag_ was always put on the by the Crown and, though it had not been considered to be one of the more important festivals before the Dragon’s occupation of the Lonely Mountain, Thorin had made every effort in the twelve years since Bella had agreed to marry him to ensure that the Spring Fête was a magical occasion for her. If any of Erebor’s balls could be said to be reminiscent of a Shire dance, then it would be the _Muhudtuzakhmerag_ , but even then, it was so much more than the modest parties Bella had grown up attending.

Enormous curtains of flowering vines and thick ivy were draped and hung all around the massive space, held up by oak boughs tinted silver, for the duration of the affair and all the walkways were covered by carpets of green, making the Gallery of Kings look less like a Dwarven hall and almost like like an enchanted meadow. At the center of each and every one of the numerous heptagon-shaped tables, displayed in vases of carved crystal, were eternal bouquets of violets, orchids, hyacinth, lavender, and honeysuckle – all crafted so perfectly from gemstones that they seemed real – and around the base of each urn was a perpetual garland of roses in pink, red, yellow, and blue shades. Paired with the emerald silk tablecloths and the tiny glowing crystals that were embedded in the garlands, it created an utterly charming tableau for everyone to enjoy.

“You’ve outdone yourself, _Khaeluh_ ,” Bella murmured appreciatively, approaching her husband after all the necessary formalities had been handled and the introductions of royalty and nobility had been made. “This is breathtaking.”

“Not nearly so much as the sight of you, _Ghivashel_ ,” Thorin returned.

“You’re a bit biased, my darling,” Bella told him with a gentle laugh.

“Don’t look now, but our daughters have discovered the joys of playing in the Fountain of Kings,” Thorin intoned with amusement plain for all to see writ upon his face, inclining his head toward the large waterspout with its multi-tiered opalescent basins that sat behind the podium.

Bella did look, because he could never have expected her _not_ to and discovered that all five of their children were soaked head to toe and looking mightily pleased about it. Fíli and Kíli were in the fountain too, splashing one another with glee, which was utterly unsurprising. Dori was standing just outside of the fountain, wringing his hands and glaring at the princes while simultaneously trying to coax the princesses out of the water and getting absolutely nowhere.

“That’s entirely your fault,” Bella announced good-naturedly, “Hobbits are not nearly so fond of splashing in public fountains as Dwarrow are.”

Her daughters had behaved all the way through the speeches, so Bella was willing to count herself lucky and let them have their fun.

“At least they’re all still dressed.”

“For now,” Thorin agreed, with no small measure of good cheer, “But wait until the boys get some ale in their systems. They’ll be shucking clothes left and right and when our girls see their cousins doing it, they’ll be sure to follow.”

Music began to fill the air then, a gentle susurrus sound at first, as the violinists barely brushed their bows against the strings of their instruments, that quickly developed into a jaunty and well-loved melody as the other musicians joined in. It was a very old love song, rare in that its mood remained pleasant throughout the many verses with cords of sorrow never touching its harmony. ‘ _The Stone King and the Green Lady_ ’ it was called.

“May I have this dance, my Queen?” Thorin requested with a warm smile, holding out a hand.

Bella took it, beaming back at him, “You may, my King.”

Thorin lead Bella out onto the golden dance floor and pulled her close, beginning to move just as the minstrel started to croon the musical tale. Together, Bella and Thorin swayed and twirled to the tune, letting the rest of the world fall away as they danced, moving so perfectly that it felt as if they were walking on air instead of metal. It had ever been like that, whenever Thorin held her in his arms, Bella’s troubles and fears seemed to vanish like smoke in the wind.

The two of them had been required to _earn_ their happily ever after, fighting Dragons and Orcs and nobles who cared far too much about preserving the old ways in a perilous dance that seemed to go on forever, but earned it they had. And they had done it side by side, as they always would, no matter what trial came their way or who tried to separate them.

The complex dances of Erebor were nothing like the uncomplicated ones in the Shire, but as long as Thorin was her partner, Bella could hardly bring herself to care – they were One, always and forever.

**THE END**

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Translations (Khuzdûl)**

  * Muhudtuzakhmerag **[Spring Festival/Fête]**
  * Ghivashel **[Beloved]**
  * Khaeluh **[** **My Great Wolf **]****




End file.
